She Will Be Loved
by JaceHeronduck
Summary: Jace POV. There was never a Clace, because Jace couldn't afford to lose their friendship. But when Clary is met with a problem, it leaves Jace to pick up the horribly broken pieces. But with this type of problem, a relationship is almost needed, to spare the innocent little... problem. Clace. Short multi-chapter that won't disapoint. All Human, Modern. Language, tense subjects.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the fixed chapter, just fixed it, if u don't know what the problem was, just ignore this and keep reading, but if u saw the other version of ch. 1, sorry, read this one to understand it better :/... anyway, please review! :3**

* * *

The bass pumps through the car, a fast but steady heartbeat. I laugh at the girl sitting next to me, bobbing her head and lip syncing like a fan girl alone in her room. Her red hair is straightened to perfection and currently slapping me in the face. "Clare!" I laugh.

The girl stops and grins at me before whipping her hair at me again. "You told me to leave it down." She defends.

I run a hand through my blonde curls and settle it back on the steering wheel. Un-like Clary's classy clothes, I wear a white T-shirt and black basketball shorts with my black running shoes. Clary wears a baby blue tank and peach colored jeans and flats. Like usual, I'm only her chauffeur, delivering her at the door of wherever she wants to be. Jace's Taxi Service is what Clary calls it, and I've been in the business for three years, the moment I got my drivers' license. Clary didn't want to start driving anytime soon. "I'll get my license when everyone I know dies." She had said teasingly, almost two years ago. That was also the year she'd started dating Simon Lewis. Yes, I say Simon Lewis in more of a _Simon Lewis_ way. I don't like the kid. What so ever. He's dated six girls within the last year, and no doubt has hooked up with at least four of them. But, as a good best friend since birth, I keep my jaw clamped and a smile on, supporting Clary whenever, and whatever, she needs it for. People, like my adoptive sister, Izzy, call my attitude towards him jealousy, but I call it being protective of my friend. Would I date Clare? Sure, if she needed someone to be there for her in a more-than-friends way, but other than that, I try not to think about any of that. I've ruined a lot of friendships because of unwanted feelings from either side. And not necessarily only the girl gender conflict.

I shake away the memory of my adoptive brother, Alec. It wasn't because I was his adoptive brother, because technically we weren't blood related, it's just; I'm not into that type. Alec was heartbroken and a little angry, and now we avoid each other as much as possible.

Clary punches my arm. "It's green, loser." She shouts over the music.

I turn down the main street to Simon's loft. That was another thing. Clary didn't need to go to a boys loft that he owns by himself. Clary told me it was a gift for graduation, which was used well since he quit college. I sigh. I can't judge, I'm just getting a basic education with Clary at the community college, but at least I'm furthering my education.

Clary reaches over the center console and rubs the spot between my eyebrows. She knows I get wrinkles when I'm stressed or worried. "Jace, what's wrong?" she asks, turning down Maroon 5's _Lucky Strike_.

I sigh. "I don't have a good feeling about him Clare. Could you at least encourage him to go to a college, or get a job and stop depending on his mother?" I ask.

Clary sighs in reply. "Jace, you know about his learning disability." She says softly, as if he might actually be in the back seat.

I nod with a huff, holding my tongue. When he was a junior, he got permission to only taking the four basic classes instead of all eight class periods, because he told his mother that when they moved too fast in class, he got migraines and started jumbling words up. I thought it was funny how in Language Arts Senior year, he got all the lead roles in the school plays. I glance at Clary's doe eyes, like she's about to cry just thinking about her boyfriend's "disability". "It must've slipped my mind." I mumble.

Clary shifts back in her seat and smiles. She's always positive and smiling. "Besides, he says he got an offer to be on the waiting list to get into the auditions to be a manager for a band." She says.

I snort. "He's on the waiting list to get into an _audition_? Just so he can be a manager?" I ask.

Clary nods. "Yeah! He'd get paid like ten grand a month!" she exclaims.

I smile and nod, but on the inside I'm screaming and begging my hands to get the nerve to turn the car around and forbid her to see Simon. I get ten grand every other _week_ by working at my adoptive father's football club. I teach the seven year olds, and apparently my father thinks I'm going through the third level of hell, so he gives me five grand extra. My hands might as well be in a pool of stress sweat by the time I roll up to Simon's building. "Here, you go, need me to walk you up?" I ask.

Clary shakes her head, leans across the center console and kisses my cheek. "Simon will bring me home. Thanks for the ride, Jacey." She says with a grin.

I smile weakly. "Make sure he has you home by midnight." I scold. Little does she know I'm dead serious. She grins back and hops out of the car, grabbing her phone. I roll down my window and shout across the small lawn. "No shenanigans!"

She turns around and sticks her tongue out. "No promises!" she says.

I can only pray that she was joking.

It's two days later that I notice Clary is acting strange. Usually when she winces at random turns, I offer to grab a movie and ice cream, to head over to her house and hang out with her. In other words, when she winces, I know it's her killer period cramps. But this time, when I offer she declines.

The next day we're sitting at a café and she shifts in the booth and winces. "Alright, what's up?" I ask her.

She clears her throat and acts like she didn't wince. "Nothing, what's up with you?" she asks casually.

I roll my eyes. "Clary, don't play stupid." I say.

Clary bites her lip. "It's nothing Jace, don't worry, I talked to Izzy about it." She says.

I roll my eyes again. "So it's girl talk. Alright, well I know that it's not your period, since you turned me down yesterday, and I know everything already, so that leaves the unmentionables." I say.

She looks at me sheepishly, and that's all it takes for me to go pale and choke on my coconut pancake. After I get it down my pipe, I huff. "Clare, please tell me you didn't give your virginity away to- to _Simon_." I say. When she doesn't answer I push my chair back and stand up. She grabs me by the wrist as I turn to leave. I turn back. "I'm sorry, but I can't support you on _this_ one milestone." I say with a gulp.

Clary frowns. "Why? Izzy was supportive." She says.

I roll my eyes and sit back down. "Izzy supports anything that has to do with _that_." I say gently.

Clary grimaces. "That's not fair, and you know that Jace Wayland. Who are you to judge when you took Bailey's virginity two years ago?" she shoots back.

I roll my eyes. "Clary, I dated her for five years, and we both had protection." I say. "Plus, we had talked about it, and we planned." I add.

Clary crosses her arms. "So? Simon used a condom when he needed to." She says.

I go rigid. "You didn't use it the whole time?" I ask.

Clary shrugs. "So, it did its job." She says.

I scoff. "Is he even clean? Don't act like you haven't heard Emily, Jamie, Paxton, and Marissa talking about their time with him." I say, counting the names off on my fingers.

Clary shakes her head, looking at me incredulously. "I asked, of course. He said he got tested." She says.

I look at her skeptically. "And was this before he was ready to go, or a split second before you were taken?" I ask.

Clary frowns at me. "Lay off, Jace. You don't usually have a problem with him." She says.

"I have always had a problem with him! Especially when he goes defiling my best friend!" I nearly yell.

Clary scoffs. "Thanks for warning me of your opinion." She says.

"Oh, what difference would it have made? You're too deep in your relationship with him anyway." I say.

She laughs humorlessly. "It would have been the difference between me not being your friend anymore." She says coldly before wrenching herself out of the booth and through the café doors.

I rest my head on my hands. _Why couldn't it have been a period?_

I don't talk to Clary for three weeks and it's driving me nuts. I hear Izzy on the phone with her almost every night, and she sounds perfectly fine. They talk about everything, and one time Clary even asks _her_ to bring the ice cream and movies over. I can't help but think that it's me who's supposed to be at her house, under her avengers blanket sharing ice cream and popcorn. It's supposed to be us who are falling asleep on the makeshift cushion pallet, with the soft glow of the television lulling us into a dream stage. I'm the one who should be getting up before sunrise to get her an Advil and making her pancakes. But it's not my job anymore, I guess.

The worst is when I accidentally get sucked into their conversation by Izzy's giggling.

_"Was it as painful?" Izzy asks._

_"No, it finally went away by the fifth round." Clary replies._

_"Ooh, five. Get it girl."_

_Clary giggles on the other end. "I am Izzy, what have I been waiting for?" she says dreamily._

_Izzy laughs. "I was beginning to think you'd become a nun. Or maybe Alec!"_

I walked away during the giggle fits and had to lean over the sink for a minute. My poor innocent Clary-Canary was being defiled and corrupted by not only Simon, but Izzy as well.

Tonight, I splash my face with water and turn out the lights. I walk by Alec's room, and hear the usual music blaring from his speakers. I'm tempted to knock on his door and make amends. I'm desperate for some sort of distraction. I sigh before walking downstairs to go on my nightly run. Hopefully it'd work, and I'd be able to focus on my own life now.

But as I run I can't seem to run away from _her_. She's there, at Jump Land where we shared an eighth birthday party, she's there in the baseball field parking lot where I attempted to teach her how to drive a year ago. She's in the outlet mall where I spent five weekends straight when she went through her awkward years and didn't like clothes for more than a week. She's in Mrs. Petrel's house where we returned her dog after it got out. She's in the park where we carved our names in our secret language when we were six. I sigh as I turn back up my road, my heart heavier than when I left.

Four, five, six, seven weeks pass and I remain shut away from Clary. She's moved on, and I heard her talking with Izzy about Simon being supportive of some big issue between them. She was gushing about how he always called her to let her know he loved her, and how he'd come over if she needed something. That got me to thinking that I'm like Simon in a way. I know I'd always be there for her, and I do love her, I just can't afford to be _in love_ with her.

By week twelve I'm ready to pull my hair out. We've never had a fight this big, especially not over something as stupid as sex with a guy I hate. Of all the times I was supportive of her, she chose the one time to turn away from me. Maybe it was a sign of her personality. Maybe she was one of those girls who was looking for a guy who would support them, even if it was asking for trouble. I can't sleep, and I had long given up by two a.m. I was about to flip on my lamp and study for finals before summer break, but a knock at my door sounded that second.

I open my door to a crying Izzy. I let her in without question. I love Izzy as if she was my blood sister. I let her in my arms, and when she calms down I stroke her hair gently. "What is it?" I ask.

Izzy sniffles a little. "It's Clary. Oh, she needs me, but I can't go over there like this. She won't get better if she sees Me." she cries.

I tense up. "What's wrong with her?" I ask, my heart rate going up a mile a minute.

Izzy shakes her head. "It's not my place to tell you, but all I can say is that Simon left her when she needed him most." She says.

I stand up, adding anger to my confusion and worry. "The bastard." I mutter. I begin to walk out of my room, but Izzy stops me.

"Jace, she's expecting me, tell her that I knew she really needed _you_. You'll have more patience to hear her out. Just, fix her. Please." She says.

So by three fifteen in the morning I'm knocking on her first floor window. I see her broken face first. The tears are streams, pooling at the notch of her collarbone that sticks out a bit. Her unusually messy curls sit frizzing around her face. Confusion is pooling on my face as she lets me climb in. I take one look at her in her huge bathrobe, and baggy pajama pants, and I open my arms towards her.

She sobs when her face hits my chest, and I squeeze her tighter. I release her, but not before I feel an abnormal firmness to her figure. My heart leaps out of my chest, and I feel nauseous again, but I don't say anything. I'm here to listen to her.

She starts out with one sentence that breaks my heart. "I need you." She whimpers.

I embrace her again, and she mumbles a sentence that breaks my heart into a million pieces, but in a different, much worse way. "I'm pregnant." She breathes.


	2. Chapter 2

**About last chapter, I'm so sorry about the stupid huge paragraph it was formatted in, I'm going to try to fix it, I didn't realize until I accessed the story today. So i'll fix that and hopefully this one doesn't do that.. but, enjoy and review what you want to see please! :3**

* * *

I think I cry more than Clary does. She explains everything. Simon and her got pregnant, and she conceived on their sixth time together, which was fifteen weeks ago. She tells me how supportive he was about the situation, but the moment she started showing, he began to pull away, not going out in public with her anymore. She says it was a coincidence how yesterday he got the managing job and had to move across country to California, but couldn't pay for her. He left that night at midnight without telling her he was leaving.

I cry with her, but I cry because of how absolutely shattered she looks. She's never been through a breakup, because Simon was her first.

"I was stupid to think that I could 'meet the one' and have him be my first boyfriend. I was stupid to think I could not go heartbroken." She sniffles later that early morning as we lay in her bed. My arms stay around her, her head on my chest.

"Whatever you need, Clary, I'll be there. If you need help getting ready for the baby, if you need me to help with anything, hell, I'll even raise the baby. It'll be loved, Clare, even if it's not loved by anyone but us." I say.

Clary rests her hand on her stomach and looks up at me. "But it's not yours." She says.

I smile softly. "But it's part of you. And I'm always going to support you in what I think is the best thing to do. I also know how it feels to not be loved." I mumble the last part.

Clary burrows deeper into my arms. "I do. I love you." She says.

I chuckle softly. "Yeah, I know you do." I whisper. It's just not the way I need it to be. I realize this as she dozes off beside me. I've got nothing to be afraid of losing. I love her, and she cares for me too much to let me go. I settle down into her bed more and yawn as my hand unconsciously runs down her arm, brushes her hand, and lands on the small protrusion that isn't my baby. And somehow it doesn't feel weird.

Three months pass, and I think Clary is busying herself to get over the pain of the loss of Simon. She paints the entire two bedroom apartment I bought her, and asks me if I want to help her set up the nursery. I agree, but not because I feel I have to help her with anything, but because I want to. I want to be there for her and her baby, whom we found out last week was a little girl.

So, here I am today, pushing the cart down the aisles as if _I_ was the happy dad. I look at the picture Clary drew of the colors and styles she wanted for the nursery. When I finish shopping, I've picked up a white wooden crib, and a white changing table with shelves and drawers built in it. Clary insisted that if she was going to be spending hours in the nursery, she wanted a comfortable extra wide chair that she could easily curl up on. I pick up baby monitors, and pacifiers, lots of diapers, a steam cleaner for the bottles, and I decide to go overboard and get some blue and red outfits for when the baby is a newborn. I grab the no mess bibs, and by then I've exceeded Clary's budget, and end up paying for some of the stuff with my own money.

I get back to the apartment to find Clary stretching her back. At six months, Clary is getting a bit restless, and she is finally feeling the strain of the weight that she carries. I'll admit, when she started getting to be as big as she is, I was a little freaked out, not because I didn't like it, she was still beautiful, it was because all the time I've known her she'd been a stick. I was worried that her bones wouldn't be able to deal with the weight. But as time progressed and she got bigger, I realized that this was all part of the wonderful experience of pregnancy. It was pretty rewarding to both Clary and I, because Clary was excited to be a mother, and I was excited to have Clary rely on me again. But I could tell today was a rough day.

As I walk into the freshly painted room, Clary groans. "Can you help me?" she asks.

I smile softly. "Sure, what do you need?" I ask.

Clary walks over to me and puts her arms around my neck. "I need my back to be popped." She says.

I chuckle, and settle my arms around her waist, careful of the baby between us. I let her wrap her legs around my waist and I gently lift her up, until the pressure on her back results in a satisfying pop. She sighs when I set her down gently. "All better?" I ask.

She smiles and nods.

I look around at the paint job. Three of the four walls are brown with different sized, large green dots, and the other wall is green with large brown dots. "So, I got the crib and stuff. You sit back, I'll get to work on that, and we could finish by dinner time." I reassure her.

I hear her give a peaceful sigh as I finish the nursery that night. Yes, the stress of being a mother, Clare.

By the time Clary goes in for her first seven month appointment, she has warmed up to the idea of becoming the mother, and that left me to face the consequences. She's started to take fascination in feeling the soft thumps of her daughter's feet, but when she insists I try to feel it too, I can never feel it. At first I thought it was because the baby didn't recognize me, since I didn't have the special daddy connection, but when I tried to feel at the same time she was active, Clary figured that no one could feel it just yet.

So naturally she brought that up at the appointment today. The doctor said that every time is different, and that I would eventually be able to. That got me thinking about if I actually wanted to be able to experience that, since it's not my child. But I don't dare say anything to Clary about it. The poor girl is already feeling really self-conscious. She doesn't run to the store with me, and often I'll have to get things for take-out, since she gets second glances when we are out.

I think back to the night she broke down a month ago. We had just come back from our usual café, and she didn't like the attention at all.

"It's like they _know_ and expect me to do this alone. They know who I've been with." She sobbed.

I just held her. It wasn't like I could say 'You know, I could act like the dad, I could go out with you, marry you even so that people won't be so judging'. That'd make it seem like I want to be with her. But the thing is, is that I do.

So two weeks after the appointment, we are sitting on the couch watching a movie when Clary grunts. "She's gotten a lot stronger." She hisses.

I hesitantly put two fingers on a spot of her swollen middle, and I almost immediately feel a light tapping. I stare at it in wonder, for at least five minutes, before I feel a set of eyes on me. I look up to see Clary smiling softly with a hint of excitement. "You felt her?" she asks me in a hushed voice.

I grin. "Yeah, she has gotten a lot stronger." I chuckle.

Clary swallows. "Jace… I wanted to ask you a favor. I know, I only take things from you, and I'm so sorry, but… I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be the father figure. You know, be there for her, at least if only when she needs her daddy." She explains hesitantly.

A gush of air bursts out as I wrap her in my arms and sway us a little. "Thank you," I whisper. "I'd love to."

At eight months, I've officially moved into Clary's apartment to help with the last stretch of the pregnancy and the first few months of the baby's life. The first week she lets me sleep with her, but I move to the couch when she starts getting restless. She's having a very hard time getting comfortable, but all I can do is remind her that she's almost done. One night that freaks her out even more.

"God, Jace, I don't have a birth plan." She says.

I shrug. "That's easy, you've got your midwife, just let me know when you need to get her out and I'll drive you. There, problem solved." I tease in attempt to cheer her up.

She brushes her hand down her face. "Oh my god, never repeat that phrase again." She groans.

I chuckle. "At least I didn't say when you need to start pushing." I mutter.

She makes an embarrassed noise again, causing me to laugh. "Glad I could be the laugh of the week." She grumbles.

I shake her shoulder gently. "You need to relax. Here, sit on my lap." I say gently pulling her to me.

When she complies I begin to rub her neck, gently squeezing and contracting my hands, being sure to move down her back and back up. I keep at it until I hear her none too quiet snores, and I gently scoop her up and put her to bed. I stay and watch her sleep for a while. Ever since I admitted my love for her, I've found it easier to just enjoy her little things, even the quirks. I sigh and return to that dreaded couch.

She's two days over her due date, and I don't think there's been one smile or smirk on her face since a week before the due date. Clary is in full mother mode, worrying about everything. She even went as far as to make me check the crib for loose bolts. Currently, she's in the bathroom while I finish my wrench work. She wanted me to check every last piece of furniture. Last week I installed the cushy play mat under the crib in case she toppled out, which was pretty much impossible.

I can't help but love Clary even more when she looks at me with those doe eyes in the evenings and talks with me about her worries. It also makes me glad that Simon left her, so I'd be able to experience this.

I talked to Izzy last night when Clary said my advice sucked. I had told her it was normal for women to pass their due dates, since it was an estimate, and she snapped at me. She asked me how I'd like it if I had to carry a human for nine months and she got to sit back and relax. It was so not the case. The whole pregnancy I'd been slaving over her orders and preparing for the baby. I might as well be the damn mother. But again, I'd never tell my beautiful redhead that.

So when Clary comes out of the bathroom crying and begging for her old body back, I wordlessly carry her to bed and coax her back to sleep. That night I don't sleep on the couch.

"Izzy, shut up." I hear from outside the dimly lit hospital room.

"It couldn't be Alec." I whisper, staring down at the little bundle of cloth that holds possibly he world's sweetest looking baby girl in it.

Little Amity Adeline Fray was born five days after Clary's due date, and she came with the biggest scream you will ever hear from a child. I of course held Clary's hand the whole time, but as I watch her sleep, I'd rather bask in the peacefulness, rather than remember the screams that came from her mouth.

Clary did great, and the whole labor and delivery process took only four hours thanks to Clary's determination. She wanted the medicine. She had told the nurse that she expected to get paralyzed off of the amount of epidural she wanted, but of course the nurse knew she was just hollering due to her situation.

So know I hold the blue eyed, red headed baby while the mother of this wonderful little girl finally gets much needed rest. Amity doesn't sleep, and I can tell she's going to need and demand a lot of attention. A few times she's gotten fussy at me, but as soon as I whispered to her, she'd stop and stare at me with the same innocent eyes that are seen on her mother. I didn't know what to say at first, so I just repeated her name over and over, cooing at her in different voices. I take her on a little walk around the room every ten minutes or so, and it lulls her into a dreamlike trance, but still no sleep comes for little Amity.

So as I make my way to the cracked open door, and see Alec and Izzy, I immediately shush them.

Izzy's eyes seek out the baby instantly, and she sighs in relief. "Good, I don't see one trace of Simon." She says.

Alec smacks her and turns to me. "How is Clary?" he asks.

I glance back at her, and motion them in to stand in the doorway. "She's out like a light ever since they took Amity back for cleaning." I say.

Izzy smiles softly. "Do you like being a daddy?" she asks.

"Father _figure_," I correct. "And so far, yes I do. Although she hasn't as much as closed her eyes for a minute since they handed her to me." I chuckle.

Izzy smile widens. "She's making connections to you. She could hear you throughout the pregnancy, and she's finally getting the voice to the face. She must've recognized you." She says. Alec looks at her weird. "What? I read it to Clary when she had just found out." She says.

I feel a vibration shoot through Amity before I hear the wail. I quickly bounce her in my arms, but she continues to wail, her tiny face puckered and red. I smell her to see if it's a needed diaper change, but it's clean for now. Izzy and Alec quiet down as if it would calm her down if it were quiet. I hear sheets rustling and a small yawn come from Clary. She looks much more rested as she holds out her arms for Amity to be settled into. I hand her over and Clary clears her throat.

"Alec, Izzy, can I have a bit of privacy please? Amity hasn't been fed yet." She says, her voice rocky from sleep.

The pair slowly nods and backs out of the room, me right behind them. I may have seen the lower parts of Clary for the birth, but I still think she should keep a few things to herself for now. So I stand against the wall across from where Alec and Izzy stand, waiting patiently until I could take Amity back in my arms. I love that baby so much, and I deserve to be allowed to considering I was not only asked to be her father, but I also worked hard to get everything ready. And the reward of all of our work was sweet.

Alec clears his throat. "How have you been, Jace?" he asks, a little tense.

I smile softly at him. "I've been a little busy." I say.

Isabelle snorts. "That's for sure. You've taken a liking to this whole daddy job. It made you softer. I can only imagine what motherhood will do to Clary." She says.

I laugh. "You might see her on _World's Craziest Mothers_. She's already so protective of Amity." I observe.

Alec purses his lips in attempt to keep a small smile off his face. "You're whipped dude," he chuckles. His face grows a bit serious. "I'm sorry about the awkwardness. I kinda want you to be my friend again." He says, looking to the floor.

I smile at him. "Sure, Alec, and I'm sorry if I was a little harsh. I knew the topic was still pretty sensitive, I was just shocked that you'd admit you have feelings for me." I say.

Alec clears his throat. "I _had_ feelings for you. I'm not available anymore. You know Magnus Bane, right?" he asks.

I grin. "The guy from our tenth grade biology class, yeah, I do." I make a heart with my hands teasingly, and Alec blushes.

"We've been hanging out a lot lately." Alec says.

Izzy clears her throat from beside the door. "Hey, shouldn't we be able to go in yet?" she asks with a wicked grin. "I need to see my new shopping buddy."

After two more days of being in the hospital, Clary and Amity are allowed to go home. I got Amity ready while Clary took a shower in the hospital room's bathroom, dressing her in a white onesie with tiny pink bows all over it. The tiny cap I place on her head is pink with little white polka dots on it. I slip on her hot pink pants and put her white booties on over them. I hold her up in front of me, her head supported by my hand. "I think this is about right." I say to her. "Just don't come to me when you want to know which shirt to wear on your first day of high school." I joke, even though she can't understand me.

Clary giggles from behind me. "Has your loneliness resorted to talking to a newborn baby?" she teases.

I bring Amity to my chest. "I'm just warning her ahead of time." I say in defense as we walk out of the hospital room and start to make our way home.

The first night was the hardest? Not really. The first night was a cake walk compared to tonight. Amity is two months old now, and she's grown a lot. She now weighs fifteen pounds compared to her birth weight of eight pounds two ounces. But since she got comfortable at home, she has begun to run out of the generosity and cries at night. Tonight however, I'm determined to get to Amity before she wakes Clary up. So at four in the morning when the baby monitor starts to light up and her whimpers are starting, I race into her nursery, not bothering to worry about how if she spits up, it'll go straight onto my bare torso. I turn off the baby monitor in her room and stand over her crib. "Hey now," I coo as I run a hand over red curls that have grown out a lot since she was born. She whimpers a little before she starts to cry. This attention won't be enough. I pick her up with one arm and with the others I arrange a pile of pillows and baby blankets on top of the foam play mats. I lie down on my back and hold Amity against my chest as I whisper to calm her down. She grabs at my curls with one arm above her head and lays the other hand on my chest. Both of my hands rest on her back as she lies on her stomach. She's old enough to turn her head by herself now, so I don't have to worry about supporting her head.

Only once in the night does she cry from above me, and I place kisses on her hair and pat her back. Eventually she falls asleep, and drools on my chest. "I love you, Amity," I breathe as I drift off to sleep.

The next morning I wake to someone shaking my shoulder. I open my eyes to find Clary watching me sleep. Little Amity is still sprawled out across my chest, and one of her hands still grasp at my hair. I kiss her head and shake her a bit to get her to release my hair. "Did you sleep here?" Clary whispers. I nod and pat the space beside our pile of pillows. Clary lies down next to me. "You know, you're stealing my job. I'm supposed to hold her and help her calm down." Clary teases accusingly.

I grin a little. "There are still things that she needs you for." Is my only reply.

I grin as I watch a seven month old Amity crawl behind Clary as she paces the living room. "I just don't know what to do Jace! I can't afford this place, but I don't have any room for a roommate." She sighs as she runs a hand through her hair.

My attention turns from little Amity to the letter in my hands. A few weeks ago, after I moved out of the apartment, Clary got a letter saying her rent needed to be paid, and that it was her last exemption last month. The apartment was the cheapest Clary could find, but she didn't have a high paying job to get money. I helped her come up with the roommate idea, but we concluded that there was no one in their right mind that would sleep on a couch, in the same house as a baby. Even if the baby was the cutest there ever was.

I bite my lip. "How about I just give you the money?" I ask. "That way by you going back to work, and I also working, we could split the rent in two and I give you half." I say.

Clary frowns. "You pay for an apartment that you don't live in? Absolutely not." She says.

I shrug. "Then I'll sleep on the couch. While you work I'll watch Am, and pay half the rent?" I compromise.

Clary shrugs. "But you have a better place. I couldn't do that without feeling like I'm forcing you to live here." She says.

I shrug. "I want to live here. I love seeing how much Amity has grown, and I want to help you." I say.

The next week I move back in, and store all of my stuff in Clary's second closet. I sleep on the pull out couch in the first living room at the back of the apartment, but I placed my mattress on top of it for comfort. Clary started work today so it's me and Amity until Clary gets home at five tonight. She works at a Mexican restaurant called Taki's downtown which was a ten minute commute. She told me it paid just enough for half the rent, so I told her I'd cover food every other month, and on the months when I didn't cover food, I'd pay the rent. That leaves me with six grand a week, and takes one grand away each month for half the rent; I was left with five grand. We actually were getting along well, but we might have to figure something out before Amity starts school, but there's plenty of time for that.


End file.
